“Come on, let’s get you onto the couch, and I’ll see what the hell that was.” He ushers me over to the navy-blue couch. I give a grateful moan as the cushion gives me a soft hug.
“Here.” He moves a footstool over and props my feet up.
“You don’t have to—”
“You’re growing a human. Whatever you want is yours when it comes to me.”
My eyes widen. Where did this guy come from? Oh, that’s right, Britain, according to his accent.
A small bark reaches my ears. I smile down at Monty, who rests his paws on the cushion beside my legs.
“You gave me a scare, you naughty little thing.” I scoop him up and onto my lap. “No more of that, okay? Your mama can’t take it.”
His subdued yip sounds repentant.
“You should be sorry.” I bop him on the nose and use a stern voice. He whimpers.
“Faye?”
“Yes.” I turn to find James standing in front of his window. “I have good news, and I have bad news.”
“Give me the good news.”
“The streets have been cleared.”
“That’s excellent. I was sliding on my way in. What’s the bad news?”
“They took out a few cars on the street, and your car was one of them.”
“What?” I sit up and scoot to the edge. Ignoring the exhaustion trying to settle in, I push up off the couch and come to stand beside him. I cover my mouth with my hand and gasp at the twisted, dented metal that was once my car.
“You have insurance, right?”
“Yes, but this won’t be an easy fix.”
“No, but it’s the city’s fault, so there’ll be no contest. If we need footage for proof, I have a camera outside that I’m sure captured it.”
My head drops. I hug my belly as tears flood my eyes.
“I know this isn’t what either of us planned, but to be honest, it beats my plans for spending Christmas alone. I’ve been told I make for decent company.”
I glance over at him, and he offers up a tentative smile. My lower lip trembles as I give him a watery smile.
Monty barks.
“See, he agrees. We can make the best out of the situation. How about we start things off by feeding you. Everything is better on a full stomach.”
“I couldn’t impose.”
My stomach rumbles loudly. “Flora does not feel the same way.”
He smiles, and his eyes lighten to a jade hue. “Flora? Is that her name?”
I nod shyly. “If I win the battle with the ex. He wants to name her Brigette.”
James’ mouth forms an O. I admire the pucker, eying the full bottom lip that begs to be sampled. “That is a mouthful.”
“What else can I expect from a Preston?”